


June

by TheOtherCourse (kanevixen)



Series: Tom and Abigail Series [59]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Birthday, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanevixen/pseuds/TheOtherCourse
Summary: Tom wants to celebrate Abigail’s birthday and their engagement with one romantic holiday weekend away from London.





	June

**June**

“Hiddleston, where are you taking me?” Abby stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the hallway, catching me up. I plowed into the back of her, my arms catching her before the momentum pushed her over.

I coughed out a bark of laughter at her giving me such a hard time. This back and forth ‘argument’ had been going on for twenty minutes, and she wouldn’t let up. She wouldn’t by my sassy Abigail if she wasn’t pushing back, throwing false resistance at me for more attention. I hauled her off her feet unexpectedly and moved her towards the front door, my squealing fiancée futilely playing hard to get. I placed her back on her feet when we got to the front door. Sneaky little imp that she could be, Abby tried to take off running towards the bedroom. Catching her easily around the waist again, I restrained her from escaping, giggling and nuzzling her hair.

I picked up my billfold and keys from the hall table and shoved them in my trousers pocket, holding my willful girlfriend as she weakly twisted to get away. I asked into her hair, “Why are you being so obstinate, cheeky Abby?”

She shimmied unsuccessfully, instead rotating around to face me. “Because someone’s being his assertive stubborn self,” she complained.

I smirked down at my beloved, “Who’s being stubborn?”

Huffing incredulously, she almost pouted at my inability to take her seriously when she got in this mood. “Just a clue then,” bargained the love of my life.

“No, my stubborn girl. Get in the car.”

“Just one little clue, Hiddleston.”

Pretending to bend to her will, I softened. “Okay, one clue… You’ll like it. Now get in the car.”

Not to be dissuaded from her main of objective of getting what she wanted to know out of me, Abby hiked up on her tippy toes and nibbled at my lower lip, cajoling through seduction. Her little hands circled around my waist deliberately, reveling in the feel of me under her fingertips. This woman could turn me from patient saint to raging hormonal teenager in seconds flat, my love and desire for her boundless.

The pliant soft flesh of her breasts pressed against my chest, and she nearly had me wrapped around her little finger.

 _Almost_.

I groaned as I took control of a deep kiss. I slipped my tongue between her parted lips, tipping her head back. Abby willingly submitted to me, coating my body with hers. She broke the kiss to lick my neck. Lowly, I growled, “Get in the car, Abby.”

She harrumphed loudly and pulled out of our embrace. She grumbled something nonsensically and opened the front door, her petulant sulking hung over her like a mist.

I snatched her back into my arms, to look at her adored face and rid her of her mood. “Tell me that you love me, Abigail.”

“I don’t like you,” she countered evenly, but I could see the corners of her mouth pulling upward.

“I can change your mind.”

Choosing grumpy over giving into me, she challenged, “Change my mind.”

I smiled into her put on scowl, sweeping my eyes over her features, giving her that look that was for her and only for her. I reached up and caressed my hand over her hair in my way. A light pink blush filled her cheeks, and I grinned triumphantly at the subtle change in her. “Minx.”

She couldn’t hide her regard for me, much as I couldn’t hide mine for her, she owned me, heart and soul. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she whispered, “I love you, Thomas.”

“I love you, my Abby.” I pecked her lips with a kiss and pinched her bum. “Now, get in the car.”

She sauntered out the door in the direction of my car. Calling over her shoulder, she tested, “Where are we going?”

Chuckling, I shook my head as I locked the door to our flat. “You’ll know when we get there.”

With just a splash of her crankiness remaining, she blew a raspberry.

I helped her into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her. Loading our bags in the boot, I folded myself into the driver’s seat. For a majority of the one and a half hour drive out of London, the ride was pleasant, especially when Abby stopped grilling me about our destination. My girl loved surprises, but she didn’t always have the patience to wait for one if she knew it was coming. I managed to keep this weekend getaway a secret from her for weeks, a miraculous feat in itself.

Abby and I had been engaged for about three weeks. Since my shoot for The Scarlet Pimpernel was postponed until 2015, I returned to London after finishing Crimson Peak and immediately started rehearsals with Abby in a new play. When the opportunity to appear in a play with Abby again was offered, I jumped at the chance. Exhilarating to be back on stage so soon after Coriolanus and to be costarring opposite my fiancée was icing on the cake.

As I navigated into the coastal beach resort city of Brighton, I took Abby’s hand in mine. I charmed the director into giving my girl and me a four day weekend off from rehearsals, so I could whisk her away for a holiday. Beaming across the center console of the car, my betrothed wistfully said, “You brought me to the beach.”

“Welcome to Brighton, baby.”

She was positively awed and excited at the prospect. “I’ve never been here before.”

“I know.” I brought her hand to my lips for a kiss.

Parking the car in front of a boutique style Bed and Breakfast in Kemptown just after midday, I glanced over the purple front with the ivory trim four story building half a block from the seafront. I booked one of the balcony rooms for our four day holiday. “We’re here, love.”

She pointed at the townhouse excitedly, with her eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. “Here?” The energy surging through her was infectious and it radiated off her in a steady stream.

I nodded, pinching her chin and bringing her lips to mine. Kissing her was a habit I couldn’t break, addicted to showering her with affection. “Happy birthday, my beautiful girl.”

She giggled. “It’s about time you remembered.”

I tickled her, earning more giggles and squeals of delight, squirming in her seat to get away from the torture. “Ran into a petite delay with a generous portion of sass.”

Her high pitched peals of laughter echoed around the small space in the vehicle. Her hands scrambled to push mine tickling her midsection. Red invaded her checks above her toothy laughing. “You… you, you, you only… ha-ha-ha-ha-had to tell meeeeee.”

I let up on torturing her and her giggling crested off, her little body heaving for breath. I got out of the car and circled around to open her door, retrieving her from the inside. Curling my arms about her, I asked, “Feeling photogenic, Abby?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I fancied getting our engagement photos done,” I told her with a wink.

My fiancée gasped happily and threw her arms around me. I picked her up off her feet to bring her closer to me. Breathlessly, she peeped, “Do you mean it? So soon?”

“Photographer’s meeting us in about an hour.”

‘Best. Birthday. Ever.”


End file.
